


Inked

by darkestbliss



Category: Muse
Genre: AU, M/M, Smut, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:55:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkestbliss/pseuds/darkestbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A splash of color in the city that never sleeps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Matthew Bellamy pushes his thick rimmed glasses up his nose, frowning at his open calendar on the shop’s iMac. Who the fuck double booked him for a twelve o’clock appointment? Now he has to call up one of his clients, ask them to reschedule, and send out a million and one apologies for the confusion. He leans back in the office chair and pouts again at the computer screen before running a hand through his spiky black hair and exiting out of the window.

 

He maneuvers around the shop, straightening a few things on the windowsill, then calls to his assistant. “Tom!”

 

The scraggly brunette pokes his head around the corner. “Yes Matthew?” Tom looks nervous.

 

“Did you double book my noon appointments?”

 

Tom frowns, then moves up to the front of the shop, signing into his calendar. He taps his thumb on the keys while Matthew waits impatiently, tapping his foot on the floor. “Oh, sorry bout that,” he says. “Just put it in the wrong slot. You’ve got William at noon, then Chris at one to finish up that sleeve.”

 

Matthew nods, but remains wary. “Be more careful next time,” he commands.

 

“Yes sir,” Tom replies.

 

“And when is the new artist coming? Dominic you said his name was?”

 

“He should be here any moment,” Tom says with a glance to the clock. “His portfolio really is amazing, he’d be great to replace Nicky.”

“You’re just an assistant,” Matthew says with a glare. “I’ll let it slip this time since you’re still new here, but I don’t appreciate you going out and recruiting new artists for my tattoo shop.”

 

Tom swallows and looks around nervously as Allison - who specializes in piercings and body modifications - giggles at his skittishness. Matthew shakes his head at the two, then grumbles and moves to his corner of the shop, preparing for a long day of tattooing.

 

As he organizes the different colors of ink and prepares his needles, he thinks about how stressful it is to be surrounded by people who don’t know what the fuck they’re doing. Tom is fresh out of art school, has never worked a real job before, and here he is managing the front desk for one of the most famous tattooers in the world. Matthew has to constantly keep up his famous work, train Tom, deal with Allison’s constant mocking (they’ve been best friends since before he could remember), and manage not to have mental breakdowns at everything piling up. His life is hard. At least he thinks so.

 

In reality, the man is a jerk. He’s hard on his employees, hard to approach, and just plain hard and cold. Allison often wonders why she likes him so much, then remembers that occasionally it’s possible to break through his hard shell and find the giddy little rebellious punk she met when they were young. Matthew wasn’t always so cynical - it’s his job that makes him like this. Long hours crouched over a human canvas, cramping hands, and constant buzzing in the back of his brain makes him easily irritable and rude. The only time he is ever polite and outgoing is with his clients.

 

He loves his clients and they love him. He is arguably one of the greatest tattoo artists in the world, knocking off every style of tattoos, from portraiture, to photorealism, to classic, to tribal, to just plain weird shit that doesn’t really have a name. He does it all, which is why people travel from all across the world to get a tattoo done by him. They also pay the big bucks, getting the luxury treatment in his small New York City studio. Which is why he can afford his top-class condominium overlooking the city, every wall holding some sort of fine art that probably cost a fortune.

 

Okay, so maybe his life isn’t so bad. Alright, besides being stressful and overwhelming, his life is pretty fucking great. He can get anyone he wants, man or woman, with the snap of his finger. Both are drawn to him, craving even just an hour with him alone. He doesn’t mind, not one bit. But in the end he has to focus on his job and portfolio, a reputation to keep up. The most anyone ever gets with him is one night, if they’re lucky. Big, big if.

 

He runs his fingers through his hair again, double-checking to make sure everything is ready. His first client isn’t for another hour or so, but he likes to always have things set to go way in advance. Besides, he has that new kid that Tom picked out coming in soon. If the fucker ever shows up.

 

He rolls his eyes. He feels somewhat bad for Tom, but only a little bit. The poor man didn’t know what he was signing up for when he applied for the position of shop manager and assistant. Matthew constantly barking orders and calling him out on things he does wrong gets to him, but he likes the job, and he’s persistent, Matthew will give him that much.

 

He just hopes this Dominic guy is any good. He needs a second tattooer in the shop. Although annoying, it’s not a tattoo shop if there isn’t the constant buzz of a needle in the background, and ever since Nicky left, things have just been too quiet for Matthew. A second artist is necessary, and he’s beginning to get desperate. If Dominic’s portfolio is shit, he’s going to have a strong talking to with Tom.

 

~

 

Matthew glances at the clock and rolls his eyes with disappointment. It’s a quarter past one, he’s just started the finishing highlights on Chris’ full sleeve tattoo, and Dominic still hasn’t showed up. He can tell Tom is nervous, the brunette constantly biting his lip and beginning to perspire with anxiety.

 

“Matthew, I’m so sorry,” he says when Matthew asks again at two if he’s going to show up. “I told him to be here before eleven, I-”

 

“Enough,” Matthew interrupts, shaking his head. “Just forget about it.” He turns back to the colorful tiger tattoo on Chris’ forearm, focusing on the bright oranges and contrasting blacks.

 

~

 

At four, just as Matthew is putting ointment on Chris’ arm and wrapping it up, the little bell at the top of the door of the shop rings.

 

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” Matthew calls, helping Chris to stand after his very long session. The man has been his client since Matthew first started, and is probably his favorite to tattoo because of his adventurousness and ability to withstand long tattooing sessions. His skin is also the perfect shade and texture that almost every kind of tattoo looks good on him. “Okay Chris, you’re good to go, you know the drill,” he says, standing up and shaking the larger man’s hand.

 

“Thank you Matthew, as always,” he replies, slapping the small tattoo artist on the back in a friendly manner. Matthew waves to his client as he exits out the shop, then straightens up a few things before heading to the front desk where he sees Tom and Allison talking to a blonde man, who looked to be just a bit taller than Matthew. Matthew inspects the man carefully, assuming this is the Dominic that Tom has recruited; his tattoos are nice (always promising in a potential new artist), colorful but not overwhelming to the eye. His ear is pierced twice at the top, with a barbell just poking through his blonde hair, and his lobes are stretched. Other than that, his head area appears to be mostly clean until his neck, which Matthew likes a lot. He’s never been a fan of facial tattoos. The man is wearing jeans, so he can only see the ink that’s visible on his arms, but so far, things look okay.

 

Matthew clears his throat and walks up. Tom immediately stops smiling and swallows nervously. “This is Dominic,” he says, his voice small and squeaky. Bless the poor man, Matthew thinks. Always so scared of him!

 

“Sorry I was so late,” Dominic says cheerfully, sticking out his hand for Matthew to shake. Matthew doesn’t accept, and Dominic pulls his hand away awkwardly before continuing. “I just moved here from Los Angeles and don’t have a car yet.” That would explain the outrageously blonde hair and way too tan skin. “My sister was supposed to give me a lift, but that didn’t work out. Turns out taking a cab takes much longer than I expected. And of course all the lovely sights distracted me. This is such a beautiful city!”

 

“Well,” Matthew says, not impressed. Apparently the appearance of the man meant nothing. First day and he was already making up excuses for being late? Unacceptable! “I don’t like having people in my shop I can’t rely on.” He looks at Tom as he says this and the brunette looks away quickly. He really does love making him freak out, it is quite the enjoyment for Matthew “But I’ll still take a look at your portfolio, if your work is good enough, I’m sure we could find a spot for you here.”

 

Dominic’s face lights up. Matthew curses him internally; the bastard’s teeth are beautiful. The blonde bends over, pulling a thick binder from a bag that was sitting on the floor. Matthew is taken aback, surprised at how big it is. Dominic can’t be that much older than him, perhaps his work is actually decent. Then again, quantity doesn’t equal quality.

 

Matthew opens up the binder and begins thumbing through the pages. The first few prints are rather small tattoos, simple black and grey with simple designs. Eventually they turn to color, and Matthew notes how even the colors are. Always promising. Eventually the tattoos become larger, more vibrant, and more complex.

 

He inspects a picture of a rib piece. He can feel Tom’s, Allison’s, and Dominic’s eyes all on him as he looks carefully. It’s of an owl, an incredibly cliche and overused idea for a tattoo, but Dominic’s interpretation of it is as unique of a tattoo as he’s ever seen. Combined with a pocket watch looped artistically around the body of the human canvas, it is a beautiful work. Matthew doesn't think this very often, but he is downright impressed with it. He flips through the last few pages, openly admiring a sleeve and a full back piece. His eyebrows raise at the last tattoo: a photorealistic pin-up girl. Two types of tattoos combined in one. He nods, and shuts the binder before turning to Dominic.

 

Dominic looks at him hopefully as he opens his mouth to speak and Tom and Allison lean forward, impatiently awaiting the verdict.

 

“Be here Monday morning to set up, nine o’clock sharp. Don’t be late.”

  
He turns sharply on his heel back to his corner of the shop before walking into his office to fill out the forms. He rolls his eyes but can’t help the small smile that peaks on his face as he hears Tom and Allison cheering. Then, as quickly as it appears, he slams the door shut, drowning out the annoying celebrations and turning back to getting ready for his new artist.


	2. Chapter 2

Dominic Howard is, in short, the most cheerful man in the world. As he begins unpacking his boxes in his brand new apartment, in a brand new city, he can’t believe his luck! Somehow, he landed a job at the same shop as his tattoo idol, the one and only Matthew Bellamy.

 

He smiles brightly to himself, remembering his long day and how perfectly it had ended. He can’t recall ever being so happy. He begins humming a tune while his Boston terrier, Hendrix, watches him from his bare mattress. He moves around the small apartment, holding up various canvases and trying to find where they would look best on the walls. He frowns, tilting his head to the side as he holds up one of a pinup model. Above the bed or over the desk? He sets it in the corner, deciding to worry about it later. It’s time to celebrate.

 

He pulls three bottles of beer from his almost empty refrigerator then gets out a guacamole packet and a bag of tortilla chips. As he begins mixing the guacamole, there’s a knock on his door and Hendrix begins to bark. He smiles, moving swiftly through the apartment and to the door, opening it up to his sister and her boyfriend.

 

“My brother from another mother!” cries Steven, wrapping his arm around Dom’s shoulder. Dom’s sister, Jen, rolls her eyes at her boyfriend and brother as they hit it off.

 

Dom leads them to the small kitchen and puts a CD into the boombox he has sitting on the countertop. As Pink Floyd plays softly in the background, he joins the only two people he knows in this city at the small bar.

 

“So how is the mighty Matthew Bellamy in real life?” Jen asks, giving Dom a wink. She knows that Dom has always admired Matthew more than any other tattoo artist in the world.

 

Dom laughs, taking a long sip of his beer. “To be honest? I’m intimidated, he’s a bit of a dick.”

 

“He’s a bit of a dick, or he has a big dick?”

 

“Jennifer!” Dom exclaims. He blushes into his sleeve and shakes his head, taking a big swig of beer. He thinks back to the small, black haired tattoo artist with the cold expression on his face. He can’t help but be infatuated with the man. I mean, who the hell wouldn’t be attracted to a man who, at age twenty eight, is already the most famous tattooer in the world, making his way to the top of the food chain through pure talent and determination? Plus, his looks give him a little bit of a push too. Dom can’t keep his mind off of him, what he was wearing when they met in person, his piercings, his tattoos, just him in general.

 

His thin legs were covered by leather skinnies when they met, but Dom already knew about his ink there from countless magazine articles and interviews. Various pieces, some small, some big, but the one he takes most pride in is covering his entire right calf, a colorful dragon that starts on his ankle and wraps around his entire leg and ends just above the knee. It’s not Dom’s favorite though. His favorite is a biomechanical piece on his left arm, done so well that it looks almost completely real, like the skin is ripping apart to show everything underneath. Dom actually finds himself drooling over it at times, the artistry and precision so perfect, and so beautiful on such an intricate human canvas. He thinks about the smaller, not so meaningful tattoos scattered about on his body, ranging from portraits of musicians to a UFO. And then his lips: goddammit, Dom has always wanted to make out with someone who has a lip piercing.

 

He finds himself leaning on the kitchen counter and short of breath as he imagines Matthew Bellamy’s slim body. He remembers an article where he is standing shirtless, hands above him to show off his stomach tattoos, and it’s almost feminine. Oh right, that particular article was also about Matthew’s not-so-straight sexuality. Dom blushes. Okay, yeah, so maybe Matt is just a bit more than his idol. Maybe he’s touched himself before, thinking of that slight figure, thick rimmed glasses, and colored skin, the subject of his fantasies. Maybe. He won’t let it get in the way of his plan though. Work first, play later. Tattoos, clients, portfolio, then maybe, just maybe, he’ll find himself in the position he wants; kneeling in front of the ink master, sucking him dry with his thin fingers running through his hair...

 

~

 

Dom double checks his watch for the umpteenth time, runs a hand through his hair once more, and pushes the door to the tattoo shop open the next Monday morning. It’s a hot day in New York City, and he has a sweat stain on his purple v-neck shirt from where his bag was hanging from his shoulder. He gives a slight wave to Allison, who is typing away on the shop’s computer.

 

“I’m on time,” he says, looking up at the clock.

 

Allison laughs, giving him a big smile. “You want a medal?”

 

“Ahh, maybe some other time.” Dom winks, then walks over to his station. He’d come to the shop the night before, meeting up with Tom and Allison to get his things set up. He already liked the two, and was having fun harmlessly flirting with Allison.

 

“Dominic.”

 

Dom jumps, and quickly spins around from the table to face Matthew.

 

“H-hi,” he stutters.

 

Matthew rolls his eyes, but continues speaking with the new artist. “Thank you for being on time today.”

 

Dom smiles, immediately relaxing. Matthew seems to have a sort of tenseness radiating around him; that would probably explain the way Tom always appears stressed out of his mind. “Sorry about that last week. I swear, I have everything this requires,” he says.

 

“Being on time isn’t a requirement,” Matthew says. “It’s an expectation. I shouldn’t have even given you the job.” Dom tenses again, but Matthew gives him a tiny smile as he sees the man start to stress. “Calm down,” he says with a snicker as he sees Dom’s ego begin to waver a bit. “No one wants to be tattooed by someone who can’t be put under a little pressure.” With this, he gives Dom a small wink and spins on his heel, walking toward his own station. Dom is left alone, until Allison walks up behind him.

 

“He’ll warm up to you,” she says sweetly, giving him a pat on the arm. “It’s just been him since Nicky left, might take a bit.”

 

“I don’t want to come off as a slacker,” Dom sighs, mindlessly rearranging his machines and flicking an imaginary piece of dust off the metal table.

 

She laughs. “To him, we all come off as slackers here. I’m lucky, I’ve been friends with him almost my whole life so I’m used to it by now.”

 

“Do you think he hates me?” Dom asks.

 

“He hates everyone until he gets to know them. Don’t worry about it, Dom.” She gently places her hand on his arm again, and Dom suddenly realizes her tone has turned completely serious. Her eyes are vibrant green, and she’s staring at him. “Matthew is complex, that’s just the person he is. He’s like a rock on the inside, tough and nearly impossible to break through to. Once you get past all that though, he really is amazing, and you-” She poked his chest and giggled. “-seem like the kind of guy he’d let get through to that. So don’t sweat it.”

 

Dom smiles, then thanks her, watching as she goes off to meet her first client of the day. Then, he’s left to himself, as Tom and Matthew have disappeared to who knows where, and he only had to be in the shop that day to set up and get acquainted with the environment. The real test would start tomorrow, when he has his first client.

 

~

 

Dom smiles, shaking the hand of the short, red haired girl as she gets up from the bright leather couch, her purple boots squeaking on the floor of the shop. Her name is Lilah, and she’s actually one of Dom’s clients from Los Angeles, who moved to New York to pursue her career in fashion and design.

 

“So am I your first one?” she asks, glancing around Dom’s new residence. He nods, nervously looking in Matthew’s direction to see if the man was gazing over him like a hawk. He wasn’t, instead doing a sketch at the light table, in tune with the art.

 

“Yep, first one in New York.”

 

“Well, I can’t wait!” exclaims Lilah. “What a coincidence that we both moved here at the same time!”

 

Dom smiles, and they chat some more before Lilah has to leave for a meeting over lunch. As she walks out the door, her mini skirt clinging to her body, Matthew walks up behind Dom, scaring him.

 

“She seems nice,” he says casually, his tone implying that he wasn’t referring to her personality. “Got a nice pair on her.”

 

“Wait,” Dom says,. “I thought you were gay.”

 

Matthew shrugs, turning back around. “Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a nice pair of breasts.”

 

Dom gapes, then just as Matthew starts to enter his office and gets ready to shut his door, he comes up with a reply. “Not as nice as my dick I’ll bet.”

 

He hears a loud chuckle, then a “You wish!” coming from the office, followed by Allison giggling as she listens into their conversation. “Get back to work,” says Matthew sternly, and Dom smiles smugly to himself as he returns to his station.

 

Operation “Get Matthew Bellamy to lighten the fuck up” is officially underway.


	3. Chapter 3

“Damn, I’m going to need a full body massage after today.”

 

Matthew puts his palm to his face after Dominic’s one millionth complaint of the late afternoon. He hadn’t even been tattooing that long, and he’s already complaining? Matthew already finds himself annoyed with the new artist, and all he wants is to leave the shop with Allison and take far too many shots before finding a slim man he can fuck until his stress level goes down. The blonde, who is halfway through a thigh tattoo, is only making the tension and frustration in Matthew’s head even worse.

 

“Hey, Matt.”

 

Matthew cringes at the nickname, slowly turning his head to look at Dominic from across the stupid. He hopes the glare on his face is noticeable, and that Dominic will get the hint. He doesn’t, and continues his nonsense speaking.

 

“You ever consider getting a massage therapist for the shop?” the blonde asks with a laugh, acting like it’s the funniest joke he’s ever made.

 

“No,” Matthew replies plainly. “That would be stupid.” He then turns back to scribbling down orders in his notebook, relieved when the bell at the top of the door dings and his four o’clock client walks into the shop.

 

“You here for Matthew or Dominic?” Tom asks, and Matthew rolls his eyes at his stupidness.

 

“Enough, Thomas,” he says sternly as he walks toward the front of the shop before turning to his client. “You can come right back, Ryan.”

 

The man smiles, following Matthew to his station. Tom stares, not exactly sure what happened before Allison whispers into his ear that Ryan was Matthew’s first ever client, tattooing him before he was even officially certified.

 

“Rough day?” Ryan asks, chuckling as he sits down in the chair and Matthew shakes his head in frustration.

 

“You don’t even know,” he says. “This new artist thinks he’s just the hottest shit. He’s good but, fuck, I really miss Nicky right now. She was so quiet and kept to herself.”

 

“Ah, he’s one of those.”

 

“Yep, too cocky for his own good,” Matthew says with a roll of his eyes, bringing up a sketch of Ryan’s latest tattoo. “So I was thinking we could make the hands reaching out, giving the tattoo some more depth, maybe make it a bit different from most portraits.”

 

“Oh wow, yeah Matthew, that would look amazing!”

 

“Alright, I’ll go get the stencil ready. Sit tight for a bit, you want water, coffee, beer, anything?”

 

“I’ll have a beer, actually,” Ryan says.

 

Matthew nods, looking at Tom and watching the apprentice scurry to the back of the shop to get the client his drink. Matthew snorts, forever getting a kick out of watching him freak out. It’s one of the only benefits of working with people like him. He hears the scraggly brunette thumping around in the back and groans loudly, Ryan laughing at Matthew’s obvious “I’m done with you all” mood. Tom hurries back, handing the bottle to Ryan. Matthew stares at Tom expectantly, and Tom pales.

 

“Um,” he stutters. “Is Fat Tire okay?”

 

“Are you forgetting something?” Matthew asks, looking at the bottle which clearly still has the cap on it.

 

“Oh,” Tom says. “Matthew did you want one too?”

 

Ryan barks out a laugh just as Matthew mumbles “Oh my fucking god” beneath his breath, pounding his head down onto the table.

 

~

 

“Did Dominic leave?” Matthew asks Allison as Ryan shakes his hand, leaving the shop after a four hour session. It’s past nine o’clock, and Matthew is completely exhausted.

 

“Not sure,” says Allison as she reorganizes some of the body jewlery in the glass display case. “I’m out though, I promised my sister I’d be over to watch her kids while she and her husband go out.”

 

“Damn,” says Matthew. “Was gonna ask if you wanted to get a drink or two, but I guess not.”

 

“Sorry darling,” she says, pressing a kiss to his cheek, much the same way she has since they were teenagers. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah? Don’t be too hard on yourself, it was a long day.”

 

“Yeah,” Matthew says softly. “Might just go straight home.”

 

“Mmm, that would be good for you.”

 

Just then, there’s shuffling and Dominic emerges from the back room, a beer bottle dangling between his fingers. Matthew groans, thinking he was done with the blonde for the day.

 

“Maybe you can grab a drink with Dominic!” Allison suggests with a twinkle in her eye.

 

Matthew gives her a glare just as Dominic pipes up, saying “That would be great!”

 

“You’re kidding, right?” Matthew asks, his eyebrow arching toward Dominic as he crosses his arms over his chest.

 

“Of course not, it’d be good for us to get to know each other better, you know?”

 

Matthew turns to Allison, mouthing the words “I fucking hate you”, before gathering his wallet, keys, iPhone, and messenger bag, and following Dominic out of the shop and on to the busy New York City street.

 

~

 

“So what’s your favorite color?”

 

“Red,” Matthew says plainly, sipping his Diet Coke and Jack Daniels while trying desperately not to make eye contact with Dominic. The bar they’re sitting in is crowded and lively, full of young people of all different backgrounds. Matthew likes it, though he will never admit it to the blonde, seeing as he was the one who picked it out.

 

“You don’t like me, do you?” Dominic asks.

 

Matthew shrugs. “It’s nothing personal,” he says. “I don’t like many people.”

 

Dominic chuckles, shaking his head and sipping his beer. “You like Allison.”

 

“Allison is my best friend and I’ve known her for as long as I can remember,” Matthew replies, finally turning to look at Dominic. “She knows me.”

 

The blonde rolls his eyes. “What is there to know? You’re a good tattoo artist, you’re good looking, you’re rich, but you’re also arrogant and quite possibly the rudest person I’ve ever met.”

 

“Excuse me.”

 

“What? It’s the truth.” Dominic shrugs and takes a long swig of his beer as Matthew stares at him, his mouth agape at what he said.

 

“Well that’s fucking rude,” he mumbles as he orders another drink, stronger this time so that he can get through the night. He tells himself he’ll deal with the hangover later, as long as he survives Dominic’s annoying presence on this night.

 

“Maybe you should try being nice sometime,” Dominic says with a smirk, ordering another drink as well, this time a vodka Red Bull. When the drink comes, it’s mostly vodka and only a little bit of Red Bull, which Dominic doesn’t mind at all.

 

“I’m nice when the person deserves to be treated nicely. Also, those drinks are disgusting.”

 

“Says you. Do you have any idea how bad for you Diet Coke is? It’s got like this fake sugar shit that’s so much worse for you than regular sugar and it causes a bunch of health problems later on and-”

 

Matthew puts his hand up, not wanting to hear any more of what Dominic has to say. He doesn’t care. The other artist is on his last nerve. He’s talented, but his annoyingness makes his talent almost insignificant. “I’ll drink what I want,” he mumbles.

 

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have said something rude about my drink if you didn’t want me to say something rude about yours,” Dominic replies with a shrug.

 

“Shut up.”

 

Dominic snorts, waving to the bartender and ordering a line of shots. “You need to lighten up,” he says as Matthew grimaces at the group of colorful drinks. Matthew doesn’t want to do shots, at least not with Dominic. He’d rather do shots with Tom, of all people, as long as he doesn’t have to do them with Dominic.

 

“I’m not doing shots with you,” he grumbles beneath his breath.

 

“Oh yes you are,” Dominic says, thrusting a shot glass in his hand.

 

Matthew looks at the poisonous alcohol in his hand, shaking his head. This is not what he wants to do. Dominic is fucking annoying, big headed, too bubbly, and just rude, which no one else seems to see except for him. Matthew watches as the blonde begins to take shots, giddily encouraging Matthew to do the same. He glares, continuing to drink his own drink and ignoring the shots. He will get drunk, but not the way Dominic wants him to.

 

“Come on Matt, let loose!”

 

“Don’t fucking call me that,” Matthew barks, but nevertheless finally taking a shot glass in his hand and tipping his head back. The liquor burns his throat, but he can’t help but admit it feels good after his long stressful day. Plus, a few shots never hurt anyone.

 

~

 

“Matt, hello! I’m right here!” Matthew lets the annoying nickname slide past him. He ignores Dominic’s drunken hand waving in front of him as he gently presses his hand to the crotch of the stranger sitting beside him in the bar. The black haired man’s tongue gently flicks out, just barely touching Matthew’s lips. The tattoo artist groans, moving forward to twist his fingers in the other man’s hair before there’s a tug on his shirt sleeve, ripping him from the man he was attempting to woo and possibly take home to his apartment for the night.

 

“What the fuck, Dominic?!” he screeches, watching as the man huffs and leaves the bar, apparently losing interest in Matthew. “You just lost me a one night stand!”

 

“Oh boo fucking hoo,” says the blonde, sliding another shot toward Matthew. “I was telling you a story and then you just ignored me.”

 

Matthew sighs, taking the shot, but nevertheless gesturing to Dominic to continue. At least the alcohol is making this a bit less painful.

 

~

 

Matthew can taste hard liquor on lips and something else. Cinnamon? Mint? He can’t tell, his hazy mind barely knowing what’s right and what’s left. The cab ride is smooth and blurred, the passenger in the car trapped between his body and the leather seats. Matthew feels a hand unzipping his pants, and lets out a whine as his cock is squeezed once. He has no idea where the cab is going or what the fuck is going on; all he knows is that the hand on his dick feels perfect and that the body beneath him, writhing, will be the perfect end to his stressful day.

 

Just as the cab pulls up to an apartment building he does not recognize, the face below him becomes clear. Lusty grey eyes look at him and soft blonde hair is sprawled out on the black seat. Matthew doesn’t care, attacking Dominic’s lips, thrusting the money toward the cab driver, and pulling the blonde from the car.

 

Dominic giggles as they stumble to the building. Matthew’s head clears for a brief second, and as they get into the elevator, Dominic pushing the button for the fourth floor, he realizes his situation.

 

“I have no idea what trick you’re trying to pull, Dominic Howard,” he hisses. “But it’d better be fucking worth it.”

 

The elevator door opens, and a hand sneaks under Matthew’s shirt as they stumble into the hallway. He kisses the blonde on his swollen lips, already beginning to make excuses for the following morning. Dominic hastily unlocks a door at the end of the hallway, and Matthew is pushed into the small apartment.

  
Matthew doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into.


	4. Chapter 4

Seeing Matthew Bellamy completely naked is just as wonderful of an experience as Dom could ever have imagined, maybe even more. Dom lies back on his bed with his fly undone and his shirt open, hanging off his broad, tanned shoulders to reveal a slim stomach covered in bright, colorful tattoos. He watches with blissful eyes as Matthew removes his glasses, hastily throws them to the side, then uncaps a small bottle of lube and roughly fingers him, preparing him quickly but efficiently.

 

He can’t help but moan at the sight of the nude tattoo artist rolling a condom over his cock and sitting on his haunches on the bed top. Dom begins to wish he isn’t quite as drunk as he is, for this would be a lot better if he could see Matthew with a clear mind, memorize those more intimate areas of ink and store them away permanently in his mind for future times when the older man can’t be there in person to fuck him and Dom is forced to use his own creative thinking and his hand to bring him to completion.

 

“Hands and knees,” Matthew says gruffly, his hand travelling to grasp Dom’s ass and spreading him open. Dom obeys, flipping and putting his weight on his forearms. He turns his head to the side and over his shoulder, moaning in delight as Matthew just barely presses against him, his cockhead slightly touching his opening.

 

“Fuck,” Dom hisses, letting out a loud moan and bringing his head to his chest as Matthew slowly pushes inside of him. He stills, and Dom feels the sting, squinting his eyes shut and trying not to groan. Matthew is big, his actual, physical dick comparing to how big of a dick he acts when he’s around other people. “Move you shit and fucking fuck me!”

 

“Shut up!” Matthew barks, giving his hips a tiny thrust which elicit a moan from the man beneath him. Dom immediately pushes himself back onto Matthew’s cock, needing it to press deep inside of him.

 

“Harder!” Dom shouts as Matthew buries himself balls deep inside him. He can feel Matthew’s dick brush against his prostate, the dirtiest of teases, and he begins madly dry humping the sheets, too drunk to move his hand and stroke his own cock. They’ve only barely just begun, but both tattoo artists are racing to completion, a combination of alcohol and hatred fueling them toward the quickest fuck possible.

 

“Goddammit I -ungh- I fucking hate you!” Matthew groans.

 

“Fuck!” Dom grips the bed sheets, fisting the fabric in his hand as Matthew drives into him, reaching far up. Dom can only push his hips back harder onto Matthew’s cock, sending them both backwards. Their skin slaps together as Dom jerks his hips, riding Matthew’s dick fast and harsh. He feels like he can go deeper, though their current position is limiting that. “I want to turn around.”

 

“No,” Matthew barks, thrusting his hips forward, still not quite as far as Dom would like him to. “I don’t want to see your face while I’m fucking you. That’s personal and weird.”

 

Dom rolls his eyes and sits up suddenly, Matt’s throbbing cock pulling out from him. “Then you can finish yourself,” he says.

 

“Who the fuck are you to say that?” Matt asks harshly. “Do you even know who I am?”

 

Dom gives him a sly grin as he takes his own cock in hand, teasing himself with his slow strokes. “Of course I know who you are,” he says lowly, his voice gruff and hoarse. Matthew finds himself taken aback as the younger man slowly advances on top of him. “You’re Matthew Bellamy and you get what you want all the fucking time. But if you want to finish this fuck, then we’re going to fucking do it my way.”

 

“The amount of hatred I feel for you right now is unbelievable.” Matthew snarls, but before Dom knows it, their lips are pressed violently together. Dom grins into the heated kiss, because he knows he’s won. He threads a few fingers through Matthew’s hair, pushing the smaller man down until he’s hovered over him again. With a quick spread of his cheeks with his free hand, he’s riding Matthew again, this time frontwards. The look in Matthew’s bright blue eyes when his cock finally penetrates Dom is something he never wants to forget, that hint of raw aggression but there’s also a little hint of something else showing from beneath that hard shell.

 

The two artists settle into a rhythm, both of them finally stopping the lashing out and rude comments, focusing only on the sex. Dom tells himself this is just to get into Matthew’s head. That’s what this whole thing is: to make Matthew realize that other people deserve recognition, that other people can be great too. This is just a fuck. Just a game: beat Matthew.

 

Dom runs his fingers through Matthew’s raven black hair, eliciting a moan from him. Dom smiles discretely as he watches the way Matthew’s electrically blue eyes roll back when Dom grinds his hips just a bit to the right. He tries to the left. Matthew shouts. Jackpot. Matthew’s hips push upward and deep inside Dom, pulling a moan from the blonde’s throat.

 

“You look like a filthy whore,” Matthew grunts, digging his fingers into Dom’s shoulders and running red lines down his back with his fingernails. “Filthy. Fucking. Whore.” Matthew moans loudly as he fucks Dom raw, and Dom gives the other man a smirk.

 

“Takes one to know one,” he says at the end of a groan, beginning to frantically force himself down on Matthew’s cock, his orgasm fast approaching. “Gonna come soon,” he moans as he runs his fingers through Matthew’s hair. He can tell it’s having an effect on Matthew, the other man breathing heavily as their skin smacks together and the black strands of his hair are being pulled by Dom’s fingers.

 

Matthew takes Dom’s dick in his hand and begins pumping fast, and before Dom can warn him again, he’s coming hard on Matthew’s chest, his orgasm covering the other man’s tattoos with a white sheet of come. Matthew shouts, then Dom feels him coming hard and fast into him. He clenches down as he tries to milk everything from him, screaming Matthew’s name into the dark bedroom.

 

The sound of heavy breathing and a whine as Matthew pulls out from Dom’s body echoes across the room. Dom closes his eyes and tries to focus on steadying his breaths before smiling darkly to himself. He can hear Matthew’s gruff voice as he mumbles to himself, then the distinct sound of a used condom hitting the bag in the trash can that he has in the corner of his room. The bed dips - to Dom’s surprise - and Matthew quietly lays down next to Dom on the bed.

 

“Figured you’d leave right after,” Dom says quietly, rubbing his lower back and letting out a soft groan at the pain he can already feel.

 

“Do you want me to leave?” Matthew’s voice is calm, almost emotionless, and Dom can’t comprehend what the tattoo artist’s demeanor is. Is he impressed? Angry? Regretful? For a second, Dom questions himself. Did he really win this? Or did he do something to make Matthew upset? This was only to get on the other man’s nerves; Dom had no desire to make himself hated by Matthew, though he knew that was probably the case already.

 

“You can stay if you’d like.” Dom makes a face at himself. He really shouldn’t be nice to Matthew, especially with how stuck up he is. Maybe if Matthew had actually respected him, Dom wouldn’t even have to play this little game. His whole reason for being annoying and then getting Matthew drunk enough to fuck him was to show him he wasn’t to be underestimated. He was supposed to be mean to Matthew, not let him sleep in his bed after fucking him hard enough to leave him in a significant amount of pain.

 

Matthew shuffles next to him, and Dom hears him sigh. “I swear, if you try and cuddle me I will rip your balls from your body and use your blood as paint.”

 

“That’s... Umm...” Dom swallowes heavily, stirring in the sheets. “That’s a nice thought.”

 

Matthew chuckles. “I was kidding. I don’t hate you that much.”

 

“That’s good to know.”

 

A pause. “I’m still pretty drunk though so I might change my mind in the morning when I’m hungover.”

 

Dom can’t help but actually laugh at that, but he flinches again as a pain flares up in his backside. “With how bad I’m hurting I’ll probably be pretty whiny in the morning, so yeah, you probably will.”

 

“I’d apologize, but you were a pretty good fuck, so...”

 

“Just pretty good?” Dom questions with a laugh.

 

“Top ten, I’d say. Give or take.”

 

“With how much you get around, that’s an honor.” Dom knows Matthew is rolling his eyes and expects a threat from the other man, but it never comes. “Wow, no rude response?”

 

“Shut the fuck up.” There it is. “I’m always nice after sex.”

 

“Damn, I thought I’d actually changed you.”

 

“In your dreams, Howard.”

 

Dom smiles to himself, the alcohol giving him a lazy “I don’t give a single fuck” kind of attitude. He stretches out his limbs, giving a soft moan when his back pops. He stares at the ceiling and begins to wonder how messy the next morning is going to be. He predicts swearing (a lot of it), maybe a few shoves, and some slamming doors. At least Matthew is small and can’t inflict too much physical damage on Dom. Still, the blonde can’t help but worry how the morning is going to go, once all the alcohol is worn off and Matthew is back to his snobby, rude, and cynical self.

 

“Tomorrow is going to fucking suck,” he whispers to himself, flipping over and hugging his pillow into his chest. He stops breathing for a second, waiting to see if Matthew will reply. He doesn’t, soft snores the only thing coming from the black haired man. “Well shit,” Dom grumbles, already regretting everything. He burrows down in the sticky sheets of his bed, wishing Matthew would leave before any more damage is done. The game he was so excited about is suddenly not so fun anymore. Filled with shame, Dom lets his eyes shut and his body relax into sleep, his head already pounding and his gut already twisting.

 

“Let the games begin,” comes a low, sleepy voice from next to him.

 

Fuck.


	5. Chapter 5

When Matthew wakes the next morning, his head is pounding. Disoriented, he sits up with an unfamiliar duvet pooling around his hips, the bright light flowing in from the window in the corner of the unfamiliar bedroom only spurring his headache on.

 

“Fuck,” he groans as he eyes the electric clock sitting on the table beside him. It reads ten in the morning, which means sneaking out of the house unnoticed will be next to impossible.

 

Matthew has a way with one night stands: awesome sex, a short hour of sleep, then a sneak out of bed and out of the house before the other person wakes up. It’s impersonal and works every time, giving him a good fuck but no awkward morning after. Only this time, it won’t exactly work that way.

 

As he stretches his arms over his head, popping his back, Matthew realizes whose bed this is. The pinup posters on the walls, the familiar wallet and keys sitting on the bedside table, the obnoxious colored curtains to match the obnoxious personality, it’s obvious that Matthew has gotten himself in a situation unlike any before.

 

“Fuck!” he whispers again, flipping the duvet off his legs like it was lava. “I fucking hate you, Dominic Howard. I hate you.” Reaching for his glasses, Matthew swears some more under his breath as he looks around for his boxers. They’re lost somewhere amidst the sheets, and it takes him the better of a minute to find them and slip them on. He smells bacon coming from the open door and he stiffens. Fuck no. There’s no way. Dominic is not making him breakfast. No way in hell.

 

With a groan Matthew stands up, his head splitting and nausea running its course through his body. He forces himself to sit down again, fearing he’ll be sick all over Dominic’s carpet (he doesn’t hate him that much). He glances to his left and sees a glass of water with two Advil sitting on the table where his glasses had been. Okay, maybe Dominic won’t get his ass kicked as much as Matthew originally intended.

 

“Did you sleep well Honey Buns?” comes a singsong voice from the doorway.

 

Scratch that. Dominic is getting his ass kicked more than Matthew originally intended.

 

“Is this a game to you?!” the black haired man says as he turns around to find Dominic in the doorway, wearing nothing but boxers and an apron that says “Kiss the Cook” and holding a spatula in one hand.

 

Dominic shrugs his shoulders and gives Matthew a stupid smile. “Maybe a bit. You seemed to be okay with it last night though.”

 

“I was drunk and horny you dick!”

 

“Were you?” Dominic asks with a glint in his eye. “I couldn't tell by my sore ass when I woke up this morning.” For emphasis, he reaches out with one hand and rubs it, a patch of golden hair just peeking out from his underarm.

 

“You deserve it,” Matthew grumbles, picking up his phone and groaning when he saw he had ten missed calls and twenty unread messages. “Fuck, now I’m going to be late to the shop.”

 

“Nah,” Dominic says. “Allison texted me this morning to tell you your eleven o’clock cancelled. Isn’t this great? Now we can have breakfast together! I made French toast!” And with that, he spins around and walks off, leaving Matthew staring with hatred toward him as his tattooed body disappears around the bend in the hall.

 

“Who does this fucker think he is?” Matthew shakes his head as he quickly takes the pills Dom left out for him and clears away the million and a half “where r u???” text messages from Allison and Tom. He’ll explain later. Although knowing Allison, she probably already figured out that he and Dom slept together. Fuck. “I can’t believe this, fucking dammit,” Matthew whispers to himself as he picks up his iPhone and dreadfully walks toward the open doorway. The smell of bacon is in the air, and he begins to think of ways he can sneak a piece of bacon into his mouth and sneak out the front door without Dominic noticing.

 

That task proves impossible, of course, because Dominic ambushes him the second he enters the kitchen.

 

“Do you want butter or just syrup?”

 

Goddamn his voice is annoying in the morning. And his breath. It stinks a lot. He’s just annoying in general. Matthew wants nothing more than to shove past him, steal the food, and run out the door quickly. Unfortunately, Dominic is a bit bigger than him. And fuck, the French toast does smell pretty damn good.

 

Matthew sighs, and five minutes later finds himself sitting at Dominic’s kitchen table, eating French toast and trying to ignore the eyes of the blonde sitting across from him and watching his every move. He types away on his phone, checking appointments and bills all the while avoiding Dominic’s gaze. The other man never lets up, of course. He continues to stare as Matthew finishes off his breakfast without another word and gets up to set his dirty dishes in the sink so that Dominic can take care of them. The sooner he can get out of the other tattoo artist’s apartment, the better.

 

As Matthew gathers his phone, wallet, and keys, Dominic breaks the silence. “I’m surprised you haven’t ripped my dick off yet.”

 

With a chuckle to himself, Matthew shakes his head. He remembers the previous night; he is ashamed and regretful of course (who wouldn’t be if they slept with an employee they hate with all their guts), but there’s one thing he just can’t seem to get out of his mind. He never would have expected... Seriously. Dominic, of all people?

 

He had lied the previous night when he’d said Dominic was top ten. Because he was higher on the list than ten. Maybe top three. Probably top two. Most likely the best ever.

 

“I like your dick too much to rip it off,” he says quickly, gathering up everything in his hands and moving quickly through the kitchen. Just as he turns to open the door, he faces Dominic one more time to add “If it was your head I was ripping off, that’d be a different story.”

 

His eyes are shining with mischievousness as Dominic stares with confusion. Matthew quickly exits the building and is soon back on the bustling New York City streets, laughing to himself.

 

It’s too much fun. Dominic thinks he has him all figured out, that Matthew is just another toy, just another game in his stuck up lifestyle. Maybe Matthew is the one who is really stuck up, but he chooses not to think of it that way. No, he will not be part of Dominic’s little game. He isn’t going to let the blonde manipulate his way into Matthew’s tattoo shop (and his sex life). Dominic has to earn it.

 

“How am I going to do this?” he says out loud as he stops by the local magazine stand, picking up the latest edition of Inked Magazine. He turns through the pages, smiling as he comes across a small article on him. He purchases the magazine and continues his walk home so he can have a quick shower to get all the Dominic off of him before he goes into the shop.

 

Mid shower, as he’s letting the conditioner sit in his hair for a few minutes before rinsing (perfect hair doesn’t come easy), he thinks of ways he can get back at Dominic; there’s the obvious, of course, which consists of continuing to be an absolute dick to him until he cracks. But Matthew doesn’t want to play it easy. He doesn’t want to just bite back, no, that would be far too easy. He needs to destroy Dominic. He needs to take him apart piece by piece until there is absolutely no way the blonde can put himself back together. He needs control.

 

As he walks into the tattoo shop an hour later, Dominic is already there, looking as smug as ever.

 

“Hey, Matt,” he chirps, an idiotic smile on his face. Allison giggles from behind a counter as she straightens out a few tapers.

 

“Hello,” Matthew says politely, nodding at Dominic and giving him a slight smile.

 

Dominic is taken aback, but quick to recover. “How was your morning?”

 

“Fair enough. And yours?”

 

He stares the blonde in the eyes. “Splendid.”

 

And with that, he walks into his office, quietly closing the door and moving to sit down at his desk to take care of some of the bills and work on a few sketches. He waits a minute before turning up his music, just so he can hear Dominic say to Allison “What the fuck is going on?”

  
Matthew grins, powering up his Mac and pressing play on his iPod. I’m giving you want you want, Dominic Howard. Just what you want.


	6. Chapter 6

Dom can’t help but fidget. Even the constant buzz of the needle going into his client’s skin doesn’t help to calm the nerves that leave his leg jiggling impatiently. It’s his last tattoo of the day, meaning soon he can go home, take a nice hot shower, and think thoroughly about the events of the last 24 hours (and maybe rub one out while he’s at it).

 

Quite frankly, he’s confused as fuck. All day, Matthew was, wait for it, being nice to Dom. Not just pleasant, but genuinely kind. He’d bought Dom’s lunch for him, taken extra time to text Dom when he was at Starbuck’s, asking if he wanted vanilla added to his latte, and he’d even complimented a tattoo Dom did earlier in the day. The entire day, in fact, had been jam packed with only politeness from the other tattoo artist.

 

As Dom wipes the skin of his client, he eyes a small figure with glasses scurrying about the shop. It’s Matthew, and Dom can tell he’s humming and smiling to himself as he straightens out a few of the paintings on the walls. Dom is stunned, and shakes his head as he puts the finishing touches on the tattoo before him. His leg is still twitching, and his client points it out.

 

“Are you sure those lines are straight?” she asks condescendingly.

 

Dom rolls his eyes. Sure, he’s nervous because Matthew is acting more than strange, but that doesn’t mean it’s affecting his work at all. He inspects the tattoo; everything is perfect, of course, and he makes a point of showing that to his client.

 

“Well, it’s done now, so you can see for yourself,” he says, his tone a bit less than polite. “I assure you, everything is straight.”

 

She looks at her forearm in the mirror, narrowing her eyes and inspecting every inch of the tattoo before turning back around to face Dom. “I guess it works,” she says plainly, marching over to the front desk before Dom can even get a word in. He shakes his head, pulling his gloves off and running his hand through his hair, the ultimate sign that he’s stressed.

 

“Anything else I can do for you?” he asks with an exasperated sigh.

 

“No, that will be all,” she says, throwing him her money and walking right out of the shop, twitching her hips to the side as she does so. Thank God she was just a walk in.

 

Dom lets out another sigh and runs the transaction, groaning when he realizes she didn’t even give him a tip. Walk ins always give tips, no matter how rude they are. “Bitch,” Dom mumbles beneath his breath before turning back to clean up his station.

 

“Tough day?” comes a voice from behind him. “Do you need to... relax?”

 

Dom’s breath hitches as a tattooed hand comes into view, landing on his shoulder and squeezing gently. His pants seem to automatically become too tight as the smooth voice simply rolls right off of Matthew’s tongue.

 

Dom decides to play along with whatever game this is that Matthew has going along. “Are you tempting me?” he asks quietly so that Tom - who is still finishing up work - won’t hear, his words gruff and (hopefully) not forced.

 

“I might be,” Matthew challenges.

 

“You just couldn’t wait for more, eh?”

 

“Mmm, possibly,” the other man says with a wink before turning on his heel and walking away. Dom watches his ass move in his tight purple jeans (because who the fuck wouldn’t?!) and finds himself with his jaw on the floor and his cock hardening even more. He narrows his eyes as Matthew bends down to pick something off the shop floor, giving Dom a perfect view of his ass and thighs. A few seconds later, Matthew stands up, walks to the front of the shop, and bends down yet again to straighten the classic yet modern looking oriental rug that sits just in front of the display case that holds all the body jewelry.

 

“Matt,” Dom says, remembering to use the nickname that he just knows Matthew absolutely hates. Eyes meet him from across the room, framed by thick rimmed glasses.

 

“Yes?” Matthew says, a seductive look plastered on his face.

 

Dom gives him a sly grin before pointing to the floor. “You missed that tiny piece of paper.”

 

“Fuck you!” Matt retorts as he is forced to bend down one more time to pick up the piece of trash from the floor and dispose of it, once again giving Dom a more than pleasant view of ass. “Anything else?” he asks dramatically.

 

Dom’s cock twitches and he steps forward, closer and closer to the small man staring at him with his hips cocked and his arms perched across his chest. Dom can see that Matthew is dripping with arousal. He’s hidden it so far and so well during the day, but now he’s cracking; sweat is beginning to gather on his hairline, he continues to wipe his clammy palms on his skinny jeans, and he’s shifting back and forth on his designer shoe clad feet. Now is Dom’s chance, to show Matthew it was definitely not a one time thing. They both want it, he can sense it in the air.

 

“Fuck me on that chair,” Dom growls as he finally lets himself walk forward, snaking his fingers around the end of Matthew’s skinny tie and pointing to the chair his walk in client had sat in just minutes before.

 

To Dom’s surprise, Matthew chuckles, seeming completely relaxed. “Oh Dominic,” he says, smiling and shaking his head. “That would most certainly contaminate the area, and who on earth would want spunk in their tattoo?”

 

Dom rolls his eyes, but keeps up his act (which isn’t much of an act anymore, if he is completely honest with himself). “Then fuck me in the supply closet,” he hisses, getting hornier by the second. He craves Matthew’s hand on his cock, Matthew’s body over his own. He’s faltering, now becoming the arousing mess he thought Matthew had been earlier.

 

Now, the black haired man seems completely at ease. There are no signs telling Dom that he’s under any kind of pressure. The smug look he always wears is returning, the “I am better than you” facade never faltering as he chuckles at Dom revealing his weakness. And it’s true, it is a weakness; Dom can physically feel himself coming undone at Matthew’s feet, like a tightly coiled string that is finally let go.

 

“Fuck me, Matthew, fuck me,” he begs like a whining school boy, tugging on the edges of Matthew’s collared shirt.

 

They’re backing up now, and Dom feels the edge of his thighs hit the couch they have clients sit on when they wait for their appointments to start. With a single push of Matthew’s finger, Dom is sprawled out on the sofa. Matthew isn’t touching him, not in the way Dom wants him to, but the blonde can still physically feel the heat that is radiating from the other man. It’s strong and powerful, just like he is: a symbol of ruling.

 

Matthew licks his lips, and Dom watches with lust at the moist skin, his piercing shining in the dark red lights of the shop. Dom moves forward with his own lips, but Matthew backs away, holding up his finger instead and smiling.

 

“Fucking tease,” Dom mumbles.

 

“You like it,” Matthew whispers, removing his finger and replacing it with his lips.

 

With a whine, Dom leans into it, craving the taste he’s only known while drunk. He can taste cigarettes and coffee on Matthew’s lips rather than alcohol, and it is absolutely devine. It’s a taste he wants to remember forever.

 

Unfortunately, the kiss doesn’t last forever, because right at that moment, Allison decides to come back into the shop to pick up something she’d forgotten. Yes, of course, she just had to pick that moment of all moments. Matthew immediately pushes Dominic away, and backs up, holding his hands out in front of himself like he’s being defensive.

 

“Oh stop the acting,” Allison says with a roll of her eyes. “I saw you all over him before I even came to the shop. Don’t let me ruin your little gay parade, I’ll be out of here in a second.”

 

“Please hurry,” Dom says, completely out of breath from kissing Matthew.

 

“No, Allison,” Matthew says calmly. “Please, take your time.”

 

“Aw, aren’t you two just the cutest!” Allison says in an exaggerated high pitched voice that should only be used when talking to babies that aren’t shitting their diapers or adorable puppies and kittens.

 

Dom simply blushes while Matthew rolls his eyes. By the time Allison leaves (not without one more comment and a wink to Matthew), Dom is completely embarrassed, but still hard and horny.

 

“I think my cock is going to fall off if you don’t fucking touch me right now,” he pants the second the door shuts behind Allison.

 

“Hmm,” Matthew says, shrugging his shoulders. “That’s too bad.” And with that, he pushes Dom’s wandering hand off the front of his chest, walks to the front desk, grabs his keys and messenger bag, and leaves the shop. He doesn’t even bother to turn around and see Dom’s reaction, and it’s a good thing he doesn’t, because at that moment, the blonde is forced to drop his pants and jerk himself off in the middle of the shop, no fucks given whatsoever.

  
Matthew Bellamy is a dick, but Dom can tell he’s falling for him faster than he ever would’ve expected.


	7. Chapter 7

“I fucking hate you.”

 

Matthew grins at the text that has just appeared on his phone screen as he throws his apartment keys into the blown glass bowl in the foyer before slipping off his shoes and replacing them with his rich red slippers.

 

Images of Dominic alone in the shop rubbing himself to completion begin to form, and Matthew is forced to slip his own hand down the front of his pants. He doesn’t mind. In fact, the picture of sweat sliding down Dominic’s inked skin gives Matthew quite the show as he shuts his eyes and leans back to let his head softly hit the wall. His lips are parted open, making an ‘o’ as he gives himself long strokes.

 

“Damn you Dominic Howard,” he says on the end of a moan, giving a twist of his fist. “Damn you to hell.”

 

It’s a short race to climax, and just a short while later, Matthew is showered and preparing a quick stir fry on the stove top. He scratches at his upper thigh just below the hem of his briefs whilst absentmindedly pouring more sesame oil into the pan. Soon, his apartment is filled with warmth and the smell of good food, and he quickly scoops his stir fry and rice into a waiting plate. He then pours himself a glass of red wine, pulls his laptop from his messenger bag, and makes his way to the couch for a long night of Days of Our Lives reruns and scheduling interviews and appointments.

 

By midnight, the soap opera marathon is over and Matthew has responded to every single email in his inbox. The bottle of wine is only half empty, and he hums to himself in thought, grabbing the remote to scan the channels to try and find something to entertain himself with. Nothing is of interest, so he throws the remote to the side and looks around the room.

 

There is nothing to do. He’s bored out of his mind, but it’s far too early to go to sleep. The games on his iPhone only last him until one in the morning, and by that time, Matthew decides nothing is really worth staying up for. With a quick doodle on a napkin that’s left over from dinner, he finds himself moving toward his bedroom. As he curls up in the silk sheets - they feel like heaven against his soft and sensitive skin - he stares at the ceiling, wondering just how he, Matthew Bellamy, world-famous tattoo artist and millionaire, is bored on a Friday night. It’s his last thought before he drifts asleep.

 

~

 

The harsh ring of his phone wakes him up less than five hours later. With a quick look at the Caller I.D., Matthew groans. Who the fuck thinks it’s okay to call their tattoo artist at six in the morning on a fucking Saturday?!

 

“Hello Janine,” he says with a groan. It’s the same client that gave Dominic the trouble the day before. Her favorite thing seems to be coming into the shop, bothering everyone with pointless questions and snide remarks, and leaving without a single piercing or tattoo. In fact, Matthew can’t remember how many times she’s been in the shop, and if he remembers correctly, of those times, he’d only tattooed her twice. Both times were the definition of torture. “What can I do for you?” he asks, putting on a fake voice.

 

“Yes, the tattoo one of your artists gave me yesterday, Donny-”

 

“Dominic.”

 

“Yes, him. Anyway, it stings a lot, what the hell did he do to me?!”

 

Matthew groans, rubbing his forehead and rolling his eyes. He knows for a fact it has nothing to do with something Dominic did. He may have a running fight with the guy, but that doesn’t mean Dominic is careless. His tattooing is quality. “Did you leave the bandaging on?” He checks his clock. “It hasn’t even been 24 hours yet, it should still be covered.”

 

“Of course not, I went down to the beach at Long Island for a run right after, just as I do everyday.”

 

“Long Island, as in with ocean and saltwater,” Matthew says beneath his breath, scrunching his eyebrows up and mouthing the words fucking idiot to himself beneath his breath. “You went to the fucking beach with a brand new tattoo, uncovered? I’m sorry, that has nothing to do with Dominic’s work as an artist or my quality of a shop. That’s simply carelessness. I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do for you, this is all your own doing.”

 

“Well what the fuck am I supposed to do?!” the woman on the other line squeaks. “Just deal with it?!”

 

“Pray you don’t get an infection,” Matthew says, realizing how much of a smartass he must sound like. He doesn’t care a bit. “I’m sorry Janine, I’m truly sorry, but I can’t help.”

 

“But-”

 

“And for the record,” he adds. “Never set foot in my shop again.”

 

“What-”

 

“Goodbye, Janine.”

 

Matthew ends the call with a tight smile, angry at being woken from his sleep but glad he’ll never have to deal with Janine again. He makes a mental note to warn his local friends whom are also tattoo artists to be on the lookout for her. Usually it’s just things like condescending comments, but this is too far for Matthew. He types out a quick text to Dominic to explain the whole thing. As he prepares to hit send, he reads it over once and adds one more sentence to the end with a sly grin.

 

“Got rid of Janine, hopefully for good. You’re welcome.

 

I accept blowjobs as a form of thanks.”

 

It’s only a few minutes before Dominic’s reply comes through.

 

“Do you accept rimjobs too?”

 

Matthew quickly shuts the text, looking behind himself in embarrassment. Very silly, considering he’s home and in his bed, alone. He has no idea how to reply to the text, but his cock has other ideas, quickly hardening at the thought of Dominic’s mouth on a more intimate area of his body. Sneaking back down into the covers and cradling his iPhone in his hand, he replies to Dominic.

 

“Possibly, if you behave.”

 

“Just how long is this going to last? I’m not sure I can be kept on edge like this for much longer.”

 

Matthew squeaks out an embarrassingly high pitched giggle as he reads Dominic’s reply, but the giggle turns into a moan as the next text comes in just a few seconds later.

 

“My cock craves you. I just want to take you from behind. I know men like you, you think you’re dominant, but inside, you want to be submissive.”

 

A groan escapes from Matthew’s lips, his heart rate increasing as the texts continue to show up on his screen.

 

“I’d get you all worked up, so hot for me, begging for me, and then I’d leave you, just like you did to me.”

 

He can’t let Dominic win, he can’t let Dominic know that he’s weak, that he would love Dominic’s cock inside of him. He can’t let it show.

 

He replies to Dominic with “In your dreams, blondie” , then quickly turns off his phone before he can read another text. His dick is hard and straining against his briefs, and Matthew is forced to (once again) rub one out to the image of Dominic’s angelic - no, sexy - face. He comes within minutes and feels absolutely no shame, because it’s one of the best orgasms he’s ever brought out with his own hand.

 

After wiping his stomach and hand down with tissues, he stares at his phone. He’s still panting heavily, trying to get more and more air into his lungs. “Thank you Mr. Howard,” he says breathlessly. Sweat is tickling his hairline, running in divots down the side of his face and splashing onto his inked collarbones where even more perspiration is gathered in tiny puddles. The sight of his own skin, shining and slick with sweat, is positively arousing. Then again, when is he not arousing?

 

With this thought, Matthew lays his head upon his pillow, once again staring up at the ceiling in his bedroom. Early Saturday morning noise drifts through the walls, and the sun slowly begins to show itself through the thin curtains.

 

He lets himself relax in bed for another two hours before he finally gets up to shower and get ready for the day. He only has two appointments, but he needs to go to the art supply store to get acrylic paint and some canvases so that he can change out the art that’s hung in the shop. He likes to constantly paint new pieces and showcase them to his clients, partly because he’s proud of them, and partly because he wants people to buy them so he can have more money. But mostly for the first reason, of course.

 

~

 

When Matthew finally arrives at the shop, Tom is out to lunch and Dominic is in the middle of a consultation. He sees the blonde sitting across from a small man; they’re smiling and chatting comfortably as Dominic draws out some designs on a clean piece of paper.

 

Matthew ignores them. He also ignores the weird feeling that’s bristling at the base of his spine when he sees the man’s hand casually touch Dominic’s hip. He ignores it because it doesn’t mean anything, obviously.

 

In fact, Matthew completely forgets it even happened until he’s standing with Dominic at a diner a few hours later, ordering fries, hamburgers, and milkshakes for the both of them.

 

“That man who’s planning on getting the koi fish tattoo is an old friend of mine from high school,” Dominic explains, picking up napkins and straws as the waitress slides the tray full of their greasy food over the counter to them. “Well,” he giggles. “More like old boyfriend. I forgot how lovely he is. It’s great that we’re both living in New York now! What are the odds?!” Dominic smiles and pops a fry into his mouth, chewing contently.

  
Matthew stiffens and stares at the blonde, twitching as the feeling returns. This time he can put a name to it. Jealousy. For the first time that he can remember, Matthew Bellamy is jealous. And of all things, jealous that Dominic is giving attention to some other man. Why should Matthew care?! He shouldn’t care, not at all. But he does. He’s weak. Dominic is winning the game, pulling ahead inch by inch, and if Matthew knows one thing, it’s this; he can’t (and won’t) let Dominic Howard beat him.


	8. Chapter 8

Dom groans, hitting his head on his pillow as he removes his hand from his spent cock, whining at the mess he’s made of his bed. The image of Matthew Bellamy riding him hard is still fresh in his mind, the most beautiful thing he could ever possibly imagine.

 

“Goddamn,” he mumbles, still breathless from his orgasm. The game has turned itself around, something Dom had never expected before. He was now looking for more from the other man: not just a fuck now and again. No, he wants more, a fuck almost every night of the week. He wants to make Matt moan his name and to think of him every time he touches himself. It’s a hard goal to achieve, but Dom is willing to do anything in order to get the other man writhing beneath him on the brink of orgasm.

 

A shrill noise breaks out in the bedroom, making Dom jump and simultaneously reach to the side to grab his iPhone. He holds the device in front of him, struggling to read the text that just came in on the dim screen. He’d been all set for a long Friday night of Law and Order marathons on television, and hadn’t made any plans, so the text comes as a surprise.

 

He swipes past the lock screen, expecting a text from his over-protective and constantly needy sister. Instead, the name reads ‘Allison’. Dom smiles.

 

“Care to get a drink with Tom and me tonight? Matthew might come ;)”

 

Law and Order could wait until Saturday night.

 

~

 

“So,” Dom says awkwardly, taking a swig of his beer. “Is Matthew coming or...?”

 

Allison stares at him for a long second before tipping her head back and letting out the loudest laugh Dom has ever heard from her. Her face is bright red from giddiness, and Tom is shaking his head as well, letting out a few gruff chuckles.

 

“Fuck,” Dom mumbles. “Am I really that obvious?”

 

“To be honest, it’d probably be less discrete if you tattooed the words ‘I want to fuck Matthew Bellamy’ in bold on your forehead,” says Tom.

 

“Goddamn,” Dom says with a laugh. “But hey, it’s true, can’t really deny it anymore.” He shrugs, taking another drink from his beer.

 

“Hey, at least you have the chance to get some,” says Allison. “I’ve been wanting a piece of that since I’ve known the man.”  
  
“Say what now?”

 

The three at the bar spin around in their seats to find Matthew smirking at them, a fresh twinkle in his bright blue eyes. Dom feels his heart flutter inside his chest, then quickly smacks himself internally for being so outrageously gay.

 

Allison flutters her eyelashes, pursing her lips toward Matthew. “You know what I meant.”

 

“You flatter me too much, darling,” Matthew draws, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to her forehead. “Surely you're deserving of a man far better than me.” He quickly chuckles and lets out a huge smile. “Oh wait, I forgot I’m the best.”

 

“Selfish bastard,” Allison says with a smile and a wink.

 

Tom laughs nervously beside her, and Dom watches the interaction between him and Matthew. The sweat beginning to gather at the top of Tom’s hairline does not go unnoticed as the young assistant tries to calm down and join Allison and Matthew’s little back and forth bickering. Matthew has yet to say anything to Dom, but he doesn’t mind. In fact, the blonde is content to sit back all night long, sip his beer, and just simply watch the other man socialize.

 

It doesn’t last long. An hour later, Allison and Tom are gone, leaving Dom alone with Matthew for the first time in a while. He watches the way he traces his tongue along the edge of his margarita, licking the salt from his lips with a quiet pop. His throat bobs every time he swallows his drink, and Dom has to keep himself from moaning at the thought of something else in Matthew’s mouth.

 

“You know,” says Matthew suddenly, setting his drink aside. “If you’re going to think about sex so often, at least try to be a bit more inconspicuous about it.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re referring to,” Dom retorts back, grabbing a napkin to cover the growing bulge in his lip. He has to quickly regain himself, he can’t let Matthew know he’s this pliable.

 

Matthew quickly snatches the napkin away, making brief contact with Dom’s erection as he does so. Dom lets out a low groan at the rush of pleasure from the mere millisecond of touch he’d received.

 

“Oh you are truly pitiful,” Matthew says with a wink.

 

Although in a cloud of pleasure and embarrassment, it is not hard for Dom to sense the aura of flirtiness that Matthew is emitting. The sly grins, the moments of contact, and the occasional blushes are all signs. Dom knows this part. He always knows this part.

 

The bathroom stall in the men’s room is stuffy and warm with a sweet smell that tickles Dom’s nose - or perhaps that’s Matthew’s cologne. Dom’s pants are already pushed to the ground, pooling at his feet as he grips Matthew’s skin hard and crashes their mouths together. The kiss is hot, messy, and completely sober. Dom has only had two beers, and Matthew has only had one margarita. There is no drunk haze surrounding them, only raw sex that has been building between the two the entire night.

 

Matthew’s lips are a mix of sweet and salty, the perfect taste as Dom flicks his tongue out to lick them. When the other man lets out a long moan at this, Dom knows he has the upperhand in the game once again. It’s not until Matthew’s hand is on his cock though that things get quickly pushed along.

 

Dom snaps his hips forward, looking Matthew directly in the eyes and mouthing the words “suck me”. A wicked glint appears in Matthew's eye as he moves down the blonde's body, taking a moment to teasingly play with the hem of his tee shirt.

 

“Just get the fuck on with it,” Dom pants, having enough of Matthew’s painfully slow movement down his body. He needs the other man’s mouth on his dick, and he needs it now.

 

“Patience, Dominic,” says Matthew. He takes a second to run his finger over Dom’s hips, tracing the ink on his skin there. To Dom, it feels as if he’s burning a fire through him with his fingertips. “Slow fucking is much more enjoyable.”

 

“Whoever said you’d be the one doing the fucking this time?” Dom immediately replies. He smiles when he notices Matthew’s breath hitch in his throat. Gotcha.

 

Dom watches Matthew quickly regain his control by shaking his head then focusing more at the task at hand, and it’s about damn time because Dom’s cock is absoluting throbbing and in need of attention. As soon as his briefs are pulled down and Matthew’s mouth is on him, Dom can’t help but scream out. He hears the bathroom door swing open and the sound of footsteps echoing. Matthew’s long arm shoots up to cover Dom’s mouth as they both try to keep quiet.

 

The other person is gone a few excruciatingly long minutes later, and Matthew removes his hand from Dom’s mouth and continues where he left off.

 

“M-Matthew,” he moans when the brunette hums, which sends a flurry of pleasure running up Dom’s spinal cord. Suddenly the bathroom stall is too cramped, too uncomfortable, and he pulls up on Matthew’s hair, forcing his cock to slip from the man’s mouth. “We-” Dom pants “-should get out of here.”

 

Matthew giggles and nods. Wait... He giggles. Dom stares at him for a few seconds, taking note of his rapidly blushing cheeks, his crooked glasses, and pushed back hair. His cock is visible, straining against his pants, and that’s how Dom knows that Matthew is absolutely turned on beyond repair.

 

“C’mon,” Matthew says quickly, slightly out of breath. “My place is just a block away, we can walk.”

 

“Your place?” Dom asks, zipping himself back up into his pants and wiping at the sweat that is gathering at his brow.

 

“Well if you’re going to fuck me, you’re going to fuck me on my king sized foam mattress. Your bed sucks.”

 

Dom pouts. “It does not.”

 

“Just shut the fuck up and follow me.”

 

And with that, Dom follows Matthew from the bathroom, through the bar, and out onto the busy New York City street.

 

~

 

“God fucking dammit, easy!” Matthew shouts when Dom adds a third finger alongside the two that are already knuckle deep inside Matthew’s core.

 

“Christ, they’re just fingers, calm down,” Dom says. On the walk to Matthew’s place, the horny brunette had calmed down a bit, his usual rude presence making a voluptuous return. Getting him back into the state he’d been in at the bar is proving a more difficult task than Dom would like it to be.

 

“I haven’t bottomed in forever, be gent- Oh my fucking God.” The moan Matthew lets out when Dom replaces his fingers with his lubed up dick are magic to the blonde’s ears. It’s the perfect noise to get him to the exact place he wants to be: on top of Matthew Bellamy. “Oh God Dominic you should be fucking illegal,” he hisses as the blonde slowly begins to rock his hips with a gentle smirk on his face.

 

Dom leans forward to bite Matthew’s lip, the sweet tang of his lip piercing settling against his tongue. Matthew tastes delectable.

 

“Can we flip?” he pants, staring down at the man beneath him.

 

Matthew nods, and they awkwardly roll, knocking a few silk pillows from the bed in the process. Once Dom’s back is to the headboard and Matthew is straddled across his waist with his legs on either side of Dom, the pace picks up. Curses fly, sweat drips, muscles ache, and moans fill the air. They find a good rhythm, and Matthew throws his head back as he jerks his hips and rides Dom hard. Dom can’t remember a time when sex felt this good, when he was so entranced by the body connected with his. Matthew looks like an art piece: a dirty, horny, sex-filled art piece. He grips his lower back, his fingers sinking into the pale flesh marred only by bright patches of color surrounded by black outlines.

 

“Shit,” Matthew hisses, putting his hand onto the headboard behind Dom for support. “Goddamn.”

 

Dom continues to gently rock his hips below Matthew, but the other tattoo artist is doing most of the work by dirtily fucking himself on Dom’s cock. He’s fucking himself so hard that Dom can tell he won’t last.

 

Neither of them will, and neither of them do. Matthew’s come lands in a hot mess on Dom’s stomach, his orgasm coming in long spurts after only the briefest of contact from Dom’s hand. Dom’s own orgasm is over quickly, too quickly, and he’s left completely boneless inside Matthew. They both smell of sweat and sex, but that is no motivation to get up.

 

When Matthew pulls himself off Dom’s dick, they both shudder and groan at the sudden loss of contact. Matthew falls forward beside Dom and immediately shuffles closer to him, resting his head on the inside of the blonde’s elbow.

 

“You stink,” he says softly after minutes of silence.

 

They both erupt into uncontrollable laughter, and then, one shower and a blowjob later, fall back into bed with fresh sheets and clean skin. Dom’s legs ache and he notices Matthew hobbling a bit, which was just what he needed for the fuck to be a complete success.

 

However, he is less adamant to admit that the kiss Matthew presses to his neck upon sleep is a thousand times better than any sex he got that night.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol I doubt anyone remembers this *throws it in your face*

It’s a nice morning. The sun streams in through Matthew’s curtains, illuminating the bedroom and his naked, pale body, warming his skin.

 

“You kissed me last night.”

 

His morning suddenly turns cold. Matthew panics, recalling that he in fact did kiss Dominic last night, right after he let Dominic fuck him. Well, more like asked him to fuck him.

 

His reply is simple. “Yeah.”

 

“No comment?” Dom asks. “Just yeah?”

 

Matthew shrugs. Really, there’s no denying it. They had been sober, and although lost in the bliss of post-orgasm, Matthew knows he can’t make excuses.

 

“Was it...” Matthew pauses, staring into Dom’s swirling grey eyes. “Was it okay?”

 

Dom throws his head back, letting out a chuckle which shocks Matthew. “Yeah, it was okay.” The sarcasm is clear. By the bright, beautiful smile Dom gives him, Matthew knows he must’ve been pretty great. The blonde looks like he’s on absolute cloud nine.

 

“Well,” says Matthew, watching as Dom stretches and reveals a small skull and rose tattoo on the inside bit of his arm. “That’s good to know.” He stares for a few seconds as Dom moves about the room, (unfortunately) pulling on a pair of briefs and covering the small scorpion tattoo on his ass. “Not that I’m surprised, of course.”

 

Dom laughs, sitting back down on the bed and moving closer to Matthew. Matthew sighs contentedly and lays back down, stretching out his sore lower back. He casually spreads out his arm, letting his fingers just barely brush against Dom’s.

 

“You have any clients today?” Matthew asks

 

“Just a friend coming in late this evening. You?”

 

“Nah, day off.”

 

“Should we grab a coffee and some late breakfast, then?” Dom suggests with a hopeful smile. “Because I don’t know about you, but I could really fucking use some bacon right now.”

 

~

 

“Just wait until the headlines get a load of this,” Dom says, two hours and a shower fuck later. “‘New York City Tattoo Star Licks Bacon Grease Off Hot Blonde’s Lips’”.

 

“Hot blonde?” Matthew asks with a sly grin, dipping his head to the side to bite at Dom’s lower lip again, just the way he knows he likes it. “How about ‘New York City Tattoo Star Licks Bacon Grease Off Cocky Wannabe Tattoo Artist’s Lips’?”

 

“Hey now, be nice.”

 

“I’m kissing you in public, bastard. This is as nice as I get.”

 

“Well,” Dom says, leaning back from Matthew’s lips and biting into another piece of bacon. “You were pretty nice last night when you were on top of me. I never would’ve taken you for a screamer before.”

 

As hard as Matthew tries, he can’t hide the blush that colors his face. He takes a sip of his coffee to try and avoid eye contact with Dom, but the fact that the other man is giving him a dirty smirk makes that quite difficult. Matthew munches thoughtfully on a piece of bacon, staring at a few of the other late morning customers who are at the restaurant. He can sense Dom still looking at him, but chooses to ignore the blonde for now while he finishes his breakfast.

 

“Would you stop deep throating your bacon and fucking look at me?” Dom finally asks a few minutes later.

 

“Aw, does Pretty Boy not like it when the attention isn’t on him?” Matthew replies with a sarcastic pout.

 

Dom shoves him, pushing Matthew’s small body into the corner of the restaurant booth. “Ass.”

 

“Dick.”

 

Dom smiles flirtatiously, moving his foot up Matthew’s calf in a manner so indiscreet, the entire three other people in the restaurant probably knew they were flirting.

 

“So what are we now?” Dom suddenly asks, quietly and much more serious.

 

Matthew seems taken aback by the comment, and stares at his coffee, deep in thought. “Dunno. To be honest, the last person I had in bed more than once was in high school.” He snorts and shakes his head. “That all went to shit,” he says softly.

 

Intrigued, Dom urges him on. It was rare for Matthew to open up, and to him? Unheard of (unless it was his legs).

 

“Nah, it’s stupid,” Matthew mumbles.

 

“I doubt that,” Dom encourages softly, now aware that it was a possibly sensitive subject. “You can tell me, it’s alright. I won’t tell the rest of the shop that the big bad tattoo artist has a sensitive side.” He gives Matthew a small wink.

 

Shrugging, Matthew starts to speak. “It sucked, you know? I was 16 and the weird art kid and he was 19 and the cool punk kid so we snuck around to do stuff a lot. He always told me he’d take care of me ‘cause I was a small guy, and also the only out person in our town. He kept me out of trouble and gave me love and compassion, and I thought it was all real. And then as soon as we were in danger of being found out, he dropped me. Told me I wasn’t going to get anywhere as an artist, wasn’t going to be successful being the shy kid I was, that I was dragging him down and could ruin his image.”

 

“Fuck,” Dom mumbles.

 

Matt just laughs, remembering. “It’s funny though, you know what? I’m glad he fucked me over.”

 

Dominic is taken aback, and motions for Matthew to continue.

 

“He’s the reason I’m the cocky piece of shit I am today. The cocky piece of shit who’s also confident and has a fuck ton of money and got somewhere as an artist. And you want to know what he’s doing?”

 

“What?”

 

“He cleans portable toilets.”

 

Coffee sprays over the table as Dom completely looses himself to a fit of laughter. “Jesus Christ. Please don’t tell me you made that up to make the story better.”

 

Matthew shakes his head, laughing as well. “Nope. 100% true.”

 

“What a dick. Motherfucker got what he deserved.”

 

“I like to think so,” says Matthew, quickly handing his credit card to the waitress as she approaches the table and quickly refills their coffees. The lunch crowd is starting to shuffle in. “Should we get going?”

 

Dom nods, taking one last sip of his coffee and waiting while Matthew quickly signs the receipt and thanks the waitress.

 

As they walk down the street together, close but not too close, Dom speaks up again. “You never answered my question.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“What are we now?”

 

“Oh,” Matthew says, stopping and looking at Dom quizzically. “I think... At this point, we shouldn’t put labels on it. Just go with it, see where we end up?”

 

“Okay,” Dom says quietly, nodding and continuing to walk, leaving Matthew still standing.

 

Matthew watches as Dom walks on without him, replaying the words over again in his mind. No, no you stupid idiot. Tell him what you really feel.

 

Suddenly Matthew is jogging up to Dom in the street and pulling furiously at his hoodie.

 

“What the-”

 

Matthew moves forward, putting his hands behind Dom’s neck at the base of his hairline, capturing the other man’s lips in surprise. The metal on their lips clash as Dom gets the point and moves his mouth in a synchronized fashion with Matthew’s. Taxis honk at them and pedestrians yell at them to get out of the way, but Matthew just flips off everyone who has the nerve to speak their word.

 

“Moving a bit fast,” Dom says breathless, at least ten minutes later. They’ve shuffled themselves away from the busy street and to a discreet corner, still lip-locked. “Are you sure about this? I mean, after what you said to me earlier, I-”

 

“Shut up,” Matthew grumble before silencing Dom with his lips. The smile on the blonde’s face tells more than words ever could.

 

“Gladly,” Dom mumbles.

 

They kiss uninterrupted for a few more minutes in their quiet little corner before finally separating and smiling at each other, Matthew with a cocky grin on his face.

 

“What?” Dom asks.

 

“Might want to take care of your little friend,” Matthew says with a snicker, eyeing the growing bulge in Dom’s skinny jeans. He has the sudden urge to get down on his knees and suck him off right there, but keeps it to himself. He can’t let Dom have all the wins.

 

“Mind taking care of it for me?” Dom asks suggestively, winking and spinning away, grabbing Matthew’s hand in his and pulling him off into the direction of the tattoo shop.

 

Matthew follows, hand clasping Dom’s excitedly. He can’t help feeling like he’s 16 again, only this time, he’s on top of the fucking world.


End file.
